Klishmaklaver

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 55 ; the fifty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Rashmi Kumar , the author of Hooked, Lined and Single and Jyoti Arora , the author of Lemon Girl .   'THE CITY OF BUNARUS. Surveyed by James Aubert- 1822.', said the lithograph adorning the central wall of the small foyer. He stood there patiently studying the map, for there was nothing else to keep him occupied or entertained while he waited to be ushered into Colonel Henry White's office. Though the entire Crawford Market building was lit up by electricity, the waiting room was a dimly lit space with only a single dome-shaped light bulb that came on, at sun-down. There was nothing English about it; furnished with frugal wooden chairs along the western wall as seating arrangements, a small wooden table and another chair arranged against the central wall. Ideally, an office clerk sho...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 17 ; the seventeenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . Dorri Jun’s face had a frozen expression. She stared deep into Erum’s eyes. It looked as if Dorri Jun was boring into the mind of the belly dancer through her beautiful blue eyes. Laila knew better. Laila imagined Erum’s past and future lying like an open book before Dorri Jun. Laila patiently watched on. Dorri Jun had scribbled onto some blank sheets of paper all that Erum had told her. Erum’s problems in taking her belly dancing career ahead were all noted in a neat hand .  After meditating a while on these passages, the expression on Dorri Jun's face was one of great satisfaction. Laila was  imagining the connection between her and the spirit of the Grimoire established successfully." Tuwrel must be whispering in her ears by now!" Laila...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 13 ; the thirteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton .   February 1901- In the small Midnapore district of Bengal in British India was born a little brown girl with intelligent beady eyes. The mother used to work as a maid with the wealthy Mukhopadhyay family in their district. She had enjoyed listening to her mistress recite Rabindranath Tagore’s poetry, as she fanned her, one lazy afternoon. So when her own little brown daughter was born she knew what they would call her. She would be Khanika , a beautiful girl rightly named after Tagore’s beautiful poetry. “Eta Lakshmi Maa!” Her family soon began referring to her as the goddess of wealth because no sooner had she arrived that The Railway Company came forward and offered jobs to the local unemployed men along with other additional incentive...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 12 ; the twelfth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . While festivities in the royal palace continued on the event of The Emperor's son returning back from his expedition and the commencement of the New Year, Wu Zhung sat aloof in her chamber. After a decade, a silk scroll from LuiFei had arrived and it now lay in Wu Zhung's lap. YinHe had seen her read and reread it in the full moon light. He stepped a little closer and took a peek, himself. What one wants and what one gets, If for the better, the old one forgets, When wants become things, For which one craves, Then wants become wishes, And one becomes a slave. When one sets about, Getting what he wants, Then little seems too less, And he wishes for more. Seldom does he remember, He never had it before! The words were neatly written in a slender,...